


Lies, Damn Lies, and Statistics

by Verasteine



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Character Study, Community: writerinadrawer, Episode: s01e07 Greeks Bearing Gifts, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-09-04
Updated: 2009-09-04
Packaged: 2017-10-07 12:14:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/65061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Verasteine/pseuds/Verasteine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Toshiko after Greeks Bearing Gifts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lies, Damn Lies, and Statistics

Sometimes, Toshiko stopped by the bench to see if there was any trace of the crystal.

She knew intellectually that there wouldn't be; what had been there had been washed away by rain, removed by street sweepers, crushed beyond recognition or use by the feet of hundreds of passersby.

Sometimes, she wished she'd kept it.

It had been the right decision, to destroy that which had too much power for mankind to possess. It was like the atomic bomb, she thought, the world would have been a better place if it hadn't been invented. And this had been in her power to remove from existence altogether.

She knew that they might come in possession of another crystal some day. The rift was fickle, and on his bad days Owen insisted it was out to destroy humanity by setting them on each other.

Sometimes, she wished she knew what he was thinking, before she remembered that she already did.

There were days she had to work hard to remember what she liked about Owen. But then, inevitably, days followed when he did something kind. And days followed when she thought something unkind herself.

She had only been in possession of the necklace for a few days, but she didn't like crowded places any more. Sometimes, it was still around her neck like a mill stone.

++

"Lost something, Tosh?"

She looked up from where she was staring at the paving stones to see Owen standing three feet away from her, with an expression on his face that spoke of mild amusement. He was wearing his leather jacket, the jacket she liked so much on him, to protect himself against the wind from the bay.

She smiled reflexively at him. "No, no, I'm fine."

Owen came up to stand next to her, looking down at the ground. "What's so interesting about this particular spot of Wales, then?"

She brushed her hair from her face. "Nothing, Owen. It's nothing." She didn't want to step away yet. "Are you catching the bus today?"

He made a face and shook his head. "You won't find me on a bus, Tosh. Buses are for students and misfits and--"

She reached up to touch her chest for a brief second, even though she was pretty sure it dawned on him halfway through the sentence why she'd asked.

"--I'm sure it's a very nice way to travel. It's just not for me. Give me a car any day. Freedom and my own choice of radio stations."

She smiled to show him she wasn't hurt by his comments, and that seemed to prompt him.

"You want a ride, Tosh?"

Butterflies briefly flitted in her stomach. "Sure."

"Come on, then." He put his hand on her shoulder, warm even through her coat, and steered her towards the parking garage.

++

When she sat in the car next to him, radio playing in the background, all they talked about was work. He started it by commenting on his weevil autopsy of the day, and she listened to his voice and tried to ignore the way his hands moved away from the wheel when he talked and drove at the same time.

She fingered her necklace, an oval peach coloured stone on it that Gwen had given her for her birthday. No crystal to curl her fingers around. "Owen," she said, and then didn't know what more to say.

"Hmm?" he replied, distracted by a red light turning green and a car in the right lane overtaking them.

_Do you like me?_ She swallowed and said instead, "Want to go get something to eat?"

When the words were out of her mouth she clamped her fingers around Gwen's pendant so hard the oval cut into her hand. She forced the smile to stay on her face as Owen glanced at her with a quizzical, unreadable expression.

"Sure," he replied, shrugging, and she prised her fingers from the stone.

++

The pub was crowded, but at least no one smoked any more. Owen got their drinks and ordered their food; Tosh was not surprised to see his choice ran to gammon steaks with mushy peas and chips.

"Good old English food." Owen ate a mouthful. "So, come on, Tosh, how's your love life been lately?"

She choked on her white wine, making Owen pat her on the back. "Fine," she managed.

"You know," Owen said, "you're more likely to die from choking to death in your own home than murder."

She looked from her plate to him. "Thanks, Owen. I really needed to know that."

"Just saying," he said, holding up his hands.

An awkward silence fell. She wondered if either of them knew what they were doing.

"So what will you be working on tomorrow?" Owen asked.

She opened her mouth to answer, but closed it when she realised she wanted to scream at him. He frowned at her lack of response and said, "Everything okay, Tosh?"

She pushed her glasses up her nose and took a deep breath, finding the energy to smile at him. "Yes. Yes, Owen, I'm fine."

++

Some nights, she stopped by the bench to see if there were any tracse of the crystal.

She knew that there weren't. She knew that it was gone.

Some nights, she wished she'd kept it. Some nights, she looked up at the stars in the dark sky, and she wished she could slip it around Owen Harper's neck, like the mill stone that it was, and wait for it to tell him what he always seemed to miss.

\--  
_finis._


End file.
